


The Call

by leista



Category: Lost Boys (1987)
Genre: M/M, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leista/pseuds/leista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David grows a conscience, too little too late.  And just for a little while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Call

David studied the scene: a group of revelers circled a fire, a few perched on the hood of a car while others sat on the sandy ground or leaned against some of the trees scattered nearby. He noticed one man off to the side, separate from the group. He was staring into the darkness while the others talked over each other and laughed uproariously.

David called the man to him, a soft whisper inside his mind beckoning him over and away from the fire. David stood in the shadows of the trees, hidden from the others, late-night revelers and vampires alike. The man rushed forward, long-legged strides putting him at David's side in seconds. David looked him over in the faint flickering light from the fire.

He was tall, at least 6'4", a few inches taller than David, with a short stubble of dark hair over his head and jaw. His eyes flashed in the flickering light, but it was impossible to tell the color. He was smiling, bright and welcoming, as if David were an old friend returning from a long absence. He pulled David into a surprisingly strong grip and hugged him.

David felt out of control for a second, wrapped in the arms of a man so much bigger than he was, all broad shoulders, huge biceps, and pure muscle squeezing him breathless. Just as suddenly, the man pulled away, but kept a grip on David's waist.

"I've missed you," the man murmured, staring into David's eyes. David smiled at him, flashing fangs, all predator, but the man didn't seem to notice. He just leaned down, tilting his head for a kiss. That surprised David, too; he'd invaded the man's mind, but hadn't put that much effort into capturing him. Loverboy must have had someone well-beloved on his mind when David had called to him. David hesitated a moment, then leaned up into the offered kiss. It was the least he could do before killing the man.

Loverboy's stubble scraped against David's cheek, and his hand ran through David's hair. The man's body melded against David's as he kissed him. He pulled back from the kiss, and Loverboy took a deep gasping breath before resting his head against David's shoulder, putting his neck and collarbone in front of David's face. His body was warm, so warm, and his heartbeat was so strong that David couldn't resist. He heard Loverboy suck in a deep breath as his fangs punctured the flesh, then he was holding all that weight off the ground himself. David pulled away and looked into the man's eyes. Pale, they were blue or gray. He saw the light fade from those eyes, and they went glassy and lifeless. David felt his face crumple into an unfamiliar expression.

No, that wasn't right, he couldn't be regretting what he'd done. He was a vampire; he'd killed and eaten countless victims without batting an eyelash. Why was this guy so different? David lowered the body to the ground, gently. Then he ran. He didn't know why or where, but he needed to get away. Away from what he'd done, away from his little gang of murderers. He ran, he flew, he only stopped when he reached the ocean. He stood in the sand and listened to the surf. Then he squatted down, elbows on knees, face in his hands. He took a few deep breaths of the tangy sea air. He heard the rustle of cloth, faint scrape of boot against sand. He stood and whirled around, ready to maim whoever had followed him. Not kill, he'd had enough of that for the night, but maim, that he could deal with.

"Michael," he muttered.

Michael took a few steps toward him, but stayed out of arm's reach. Smart, very smart. "What's wrong?"

David started to snarl at him, tell him it was none of his fucking business, but he just sighed instead, deep and world-weary.

Michael took a few more tentative steps forward, and put a hand on David's shoulder, where his nameless victim had rested his head so short a time ago. David jerked away, but Michael followed. He was a persistent little fledgling, that's for sure. He didn't touch David again, but his brow was creased in worry, and his hand was reaching, as if he wanted to.

"What are you doing here?" David growled, but Michael either had a death wish or just didn't care about the warning. He closed the remaining distance between them and grasped David's shoulder awkwardly, looking into his eyes.

"Checking on you," he murmured, glancing away and swiping a lock of hair out of his face. He looked back up at David, pale eyes bright in the moonlight.

Pale eyes? Did he remind me of—no just a coincidence. David shook his head, trying to dislodge the memory of killing a man who had welcomed him into his arms. He leaned into Michael's touch absently, then made himself take a step back. Water splashed over his foot, so he glanced down. He'd stepped back into the ocean, water splashing over the toe of his boot and soaking up into the hem of his pants. He sighed and stepped back towards Michael, who was trying not to smile.

"Asshole," he grumbled, knocking away Michael's hand for the third time.

Michael laughed, throwing back his head to the moon. He smiled at David, another reminded of his most recent victim. David turned back to the ocean, watching the waves crest and roll. He'd have to stop moping around like this; he did what he was made to do—what he had to do to survive. At least the man had died happy, which was more than he could say about most of his victims.

Michael was watching him when he turned back around. He hadn't moved, which meant he was still standing too close, but David didn't seem to mind as much as he had a few moments ago.

"What are you doing here?" David asked again, softly this time.

"The guys said I should follow you, check on you."

David felt a rush of anger. They had given Michael as the proverbial lamb to slaughter. Or had they known he had a weakness for Michael and figured he'd be the safest? David didn't know, and couldn't bring himself to care. He would deal with them later, but for now...

He looked Michael over. He was a little disheveled, but there was no spatter of blood on his clothing or scent of it around him.

"You haven't fed?"

"No." The single word was a challenge.

The challenge to his authority irked David, but he was willing to let that go, for the time being. He had more pressing matters to deal with. He knew if Michael didn't feed soon, he'd lose him to Star and her gentler, more subtle form of manipulation. He thought quickly. Fresh human blood was flowing through his veins. If only...

"That's okay," he said, then put an arm around Michael's waist. Michael's eyes widened, but he smiled. "Thank you for," David hesitated, "checking on me."

David leaned in, breath hot against Michael's lips, inviting him in. Michael covered the remaining centimeters without a thought, without hesitation, without mind-tricks. David steeled himself, he was making the right choice. He nicked his tongue on one of Michael's fangs. Oops, the trials of kissing a vampire, he thought deviously.

Michael pulled away roughly, getting his first taste of blood. He looked into David's eyes. "You bastard," he hissed, breathless.

David just smiled. Michael pressed a hand to both sides of David's face and kissed him again. He lapped and sucked David's tongue, blood lust and true lust mingling and becoming one. They kissed until David felt his knees grow weak, and not from blood-loss. He felt tension building low in his body and felt Michael, hard and heavy, against his thigh. Only by using all of his willpower did David pull away, one hand below the waistband of Michael's jeans, cupping his ass and the other on his chest, pushing him away. Mixed signals? Maybe.

David pulled away from Michael's body, feeling Michael's arms slide our from around him. Michael looked confused and a little hurt.

"Before this goes any further," David panted, "why don't we find a bed? Or at least somewhere away from all the sand?"

Michael flashed fangs, smiling darkly, sending a jolt of prey-like fear, then arousal through David's body.

"Let's go," he said.

And they disappeared from the beach in a billow of clothing and a spray of sand.


End file.
